


eleanor rigby

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Beatles Tribute [12]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “You are safe. You are loved. And Ramsay is gone. You are safe. You are loved. And Ramsay is gone.”She repeats it over and over again, tapping her fingertips against her thumbs, beginning to breathe again.





	eleanor rigby

…

 

“Just a little bit now,” Sansa smiles and Eleanor nods, standing perfectly still as Sansa then lightly brushes the blush across her cheeks. As soon as Sansa’s done, Eleanor spins towards the mirror and smiles.

 

“I’m pretty!” She declares to her mama and Sansa smiles, leaning in to kiss her on the head.

 

“You’re always pretty, bluebird,” she tells her daughter. Eleanor has recently discovered Paul McCartney’s solo music – mainly his music with Wings and she is listening to the _Band on the Run_ album a lot now. A lot. Sansa doesn’t mind though. That’s one of her favorite solo-Beatles albums. Thankfully.

 

Sansa doesn’t doubt where her daughter gets this from; coming into her parents’ bedroom while her mother is getting ready for a night out and wanting to help her while pretending to be getting ready, too. Sansa used to do the same thing with Catelyn when she and Ned were about to go out for the evening and Eleanor is just like Sansa – red hair, blue eyes and all.

 

“What should I do with my hair, do you think?” Sansa asks.

 

“Braids, mama!” Eleanor instantly exclaims.

 

“I was thinking that as well,” Sansa nods in agreement. “Perhaps one?” She muses and Eleanor nods, smiling.

 

“Dad!” Brandon shouts from downstairs.

 

“I said no, Brandon!” Jon shouts back as he comes into their bedroom.

 

Sansa looks at Jon curiously in the mirror.

 

“There’s a horror movie on tonight that Brandon wants to be able to watch,” Jon explains as he goes to their closet to get his black tie.

 

He’s already dressed for the evening in black pants and a white button down shirt. He’s wearing his hair down tonight per Eleanor’s advisement, his black curls almost reaching his shoulders. He keeps meaning to stop off at the barber after work for a haircut, but he’s always too tired after a full day and too busy on the weekends to try and do it then. He’s going to have to make the time soon though. He doesn't like when it gets too long. 

 

“Which one?” Sansa asks as she begins braiding her hair and then Eleanor stands behind her to finish it. Sansa smiles at her daughter from over her shoulder.

 

“ _The Dentist_ ,” Jon tells her though they both know that Sansa won’t know which one it is. Horror movies aren’t exactly Sansa’s preferred movie genre.

 

She doesn’t like to think about it – and she has only mentioned it to Jon once – but she can’t keep herself from worrying whenever Brandon shows an interest in things like that – horror movies, violent video games (though they all seem violent). She tells herself not to worry. He’s just a boy and this is what the majority of boys are interested in. He is a Stark and a Snow and there is _no_ Bolton in him, whatsoever, at least not nearly enough to shape him, but still… Sansa can’t be blamed for being on the lookout – just in case… can she?

 

“Done, mama!” Eleanor exclaims, her fingers quickly fastening the end of the braid, and Sansa turns on her stool, putting her arms around the small girl and bringing her into a hug.

 

“The best braider in the North,” Sansa tells her before peppering her face with kisses and Eleanor laughs.

 

“Daddy, doesn’t mama look pretty?” Eleanor asks, beaming at Jon.

 

Jon instantly turns away from the mirror at the dresser where he stands, knotting his tie, to look. “Beautiful,” he says the instant his eyes land on her and Sansa finds it almost ridiculous that all of these years and children later, her husband can still make her shiver just from his eyes.

 

Sansa smiles at him and then looks back to her mirror for one more look before standing up from the stool at her vanity. She goes to Jon to adjust his tie and smiles as Jon leans in, kissing the corner of her jaw.

 

“Okay, dad,” Brandon says as he comes into the room, George following behind him with a juice box in one hand and the plastic straw in the other. “I have come up with a reason why I should be able to watch _The Dentist_ tonight.”

 

“Can’t wait to hear it,” Jon smiles wryly as he pulls his head back from Sansa so he can look to their oldest.

 

Sansa goes to stab George’s straw into his juice box for him and he looks up at her with a smile. Sansa smiles, too, and then bends down, kissing him on the head.

 

“If you let me watch the movie, I will be able to better see if our own dentist is a homicidal maniac,” Brandon tells Jon as Jon just keeps smirking and goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, Brandon following him.

 

“What’s homicidal?” George asks and then takes a long sip of juice.

 

“Something your father and I are trying to prevent you from becoming,” Sansa answers. “And Dr. Goodwin is not a homicidal maniac, Brandon,” she then tells him.

 

“That we know of,” Brandon is quick to reply.

 

Sansa rolls her eyes. “He’s all yours,” she says to Jon, who just gives her a foamy smile as he brushes, and she ushers Eleanor and George from the bedroom as Brandon continues to plead his case to Jon.

 

“Where are you going tonight, mama?” George asks as they all head down the stairs together.

 

“Daddy and me are meeting Uncle Bran and Aunt Meera for dinner,” Sansa reminds him. “And you’re going to be good for Uncle Rickon while we’re gone, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, mama,” Eleanor immediately says and George doesn’t say anything because he’s drinking his juice.

 

“George,” Sansa needs to hear him say it. “You’re going to be good for Uncle Rickon tonight?”

 

“Yes, mama,” George chirps, looking up to her with a smile, and Sansa looks behind his back to make sure that he’s not crossing his fingers.

 

In the family room, Rickon is sitting on the floor with Max, both playing with Max’s set of cardboard building blocks, Max laughing with delight as they work on building a wall around Ghost, who’s laying on the floor, chewing one of his rawhide bones. On the television, there is the _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ movie playing. It’s playing at least three times a week on the television in the Snow house.

 

“We’re missing one,” Sansa notes, immediately taking note of who’s present and who’s not, but then she sees a small, purple sock-clad foot sticking out from beneath the coffee table and bending down, she sees Julia lying on her stomach, her head resting on a pillow and sucking her pacifier as she watches the movie.

 

When she sees her mama looking at her, Julia moves her eyes from the screen to look at her and Sansa smiles at her. Julie smiles at her from around her pacifier and then giggles when Sansa gives her a light tickle on the sole of her foot.

 

 “Please make sure Brandon doesn’t watch that scary movie tonight,” Sansa tells her brother as she straightens again.

 

“I’m not an idiot, Sansa,” Rickon sighs heavily and Sansa bets that Jon has told him the same thing.

 

“You’re not? Remind me again why you have to babysit five children on a Friday night and not be out with friends. I keep forgetting…” Sansa says, pretending to be in deep thought as she taps a finger on her chin.

 

Rickon sighs and gives her a glare from his place on the floor. Sansa just gives him a look in return and turns when she hears Eleanor’s tell-tale “No, George!” coming from the kitchen. George has opened the refrigerator and is reaching for another juice box despite his twin trying to stop him by pulling on his arm.

 

“George!” Sansa scolds and George jumps as if he’s been shocked. He then turns and gives her his “I’m completely innocent” smile. “You know the rule, mister. One juice box a night.”

 

“Eleanor doesn’t want hers. I’m having Eleanor’s,” George immediately explains himself.

 

Eleanor responds to that by pushing George in the arm. “I want my juice box, George,” she frowns at him.

 

Sansa goes to stand between the twins before George can push back and she takes a juice box from the refrigerator, unwrapping the straw and then poking it into the top before handing it down to Eleanor. Eleanor takes a sip while smiling at her brother and George narrows her eyes at him. Just as he begins to reach his arm out, Sansa bends down and scoops him up, holding him with both arms because the twins have both gotten too heavy for her to carry and hold with just one.

 

“No, George,” Sansa frowns at him and it’s no mystery where Eleanor has gotten that from either.

 

“I didn’t do anything,” George mirrors her frown with his own.

 

“You never do. You sound just like your Uncle Rickon,” Sansa tells him.

 

“Hey!” Rickon shouts from the family room. “I heard that!”

 

“You were supposed to!” Sansa calls back to him.

 

A moment later, Rickon has pushed himself from the floor to cross into the kitchen. “I already get it from mom and dad every second of every day. I don’t need it from you or you teaching your kids to give it to me, too.”

 

“It’s not my fault that you’ve turned yourself into a perfect lesson for your nephews and nieces,” Sansa shrugs and then bends down, setting George to his feet before smoothing her hands down her dress.

 

“I made a mistake,” Rickon snaps. “Like no one in this family has _never_ made a mistake before? I can think of quite a few that you’ve made, Sansa-”

 

“Hey,” Jon snaps, having come down the stairs just in time to hear him and coming into the kitchen, Brandon behind him, with a fierce frown on his face directed towards his brother-in-law. “Get defensive, fine, but don’t be a prick to your sister,” he says to Rickon.

 

“Prick, prick, prick!” Max exclaims from the family room as he continues building, chanting and giggling.

 

Sansa doesn’t even think to scold Jon for his language. They are surrounded by small children who just love to parrot everything they hear. Right now, her heart is beating too fast in her chest and she feels out of breath though she isn’t even moving.

 

“I’m sorry, Sansa,” Rickon says quietly, turning towards her, and she knows that he truly means that, but she can’t even respond to him. She can hardly even nod right now.

 

Eleanor is very perspective of everyone around her and right now, for a little girl, she knows that there has been a shift of mood in the kitchen and the biggest change is coming from her mama right now. Without saying anything, Eleanor takes her hand and slips it into Sansa’s.

 

That snaps Sansa out of it enough for her to give her daughter a small smile and she squeezes her hand. Eleanor squeezes back.

 

“I forgot my phone upstairs,” Sansa then says, stepping away from everyone. There feels like there are too many people in the kitchen and right now, they’re all too closed in around her.

 

Holding up the skirt of her long dress, she hurries down the hallway and back up the stairs, she able to hear Jon saying something to Rickon in a low, murmured voice.

 

In hers and Jon’s bedroom, Lady is laying on their bed. She sometimes is like Sansa and feels like, sometimes, there are too many people and the dog will go off, wanting to be alone. Seeing her dog, Sansa goes right for the bed and sits down. Lady lifts her head enough to place it back down onto Sansa’s knee and Sansa gives her a small smile and ear scratch.

 

She is not going to cry. She – and Eleanor – have spent the time to apply her makeup and she’s not going to ruin it. But her heart is still racing and she needs it to return to normal before she can go back downstairs. Her attacks have been few and far in between over the past few years, but sometimes, often without warning, one will slam into her and all Sansa can do is quickly remove herself from the children as quickly as she can so they don’t have to witness her trying to catch her breath.

 

She knows Rickon didn’t mean anything by what he said. He’s lashing out. He made a terrible mistaken of drinking one too many beers and then getting into a car to drive and he’s being punished – not even with having to pay the fine for his DUI, but by his family. They are not a family to take _any_ heavy drinking lightly.

 

Rickon would never throw her past with Ramsay Bolton in her face under any other circumstance. Sansa knows that. They have an extremely close relationship – always have – but even if they didn’t, they are brother and sister and they would never purposely say things to wound one another.

 

Sansa calls back on the exercise Dr. Tarth, her therapist, taught her for moments like this.

 

Tapping each fingertip on both hands against her thumbs three times, Sansa focuses on the rhythm of the tapping and the rhythm of her words.

 

“You are safe. You are loved. And Ramsay is gone. You are safe. You are loved. And Ramsay is gone.”

 

She repeats it over and over again, tapping her fingertips against her thumbs, beginning to breathe again.

 

When her breathing and heart have both returned to normal, Sansa exhales another deep breath before finally opening her eyes once again. She is not surprised in the least to see Jon standing in the doorway, staying there so he doesn’t startle her by coming into the room while her eyes are closed.

 

She gives him a small smile and that’s all the signal he needs. He comes into the bedroom and sits down on the other side of her so he doesn’t crowd or disturb Lady. Without a word, Jon rubs a hand up and down Sansa’s back and brushes his lips across her temple.

 

“I love you,” he tells her quietly.

 

“I love you, too,” Sansa quietly replies. “I just… it’s silly. I know Rickon didn’t mean to do anything.”

 

“What did Dr. Tarth tell you?” Jon asks.

 

Sansa exhales another breath. “There’s nothing silly about them.”

 

“That’s right,” Jon says and kisses her temple again. “Rickon can be pissed all he wants, but he knows better than to say things like that to you.”

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything to that. She knows that Jon will argue with her if she says that she thinks she perhaps was overreacting and she doesn’t want to argue. They’re both dressed up too nicely to argue.

 

Instead, she lifts a hand and tucks a curl behind Jon’s ear. “You look very handsome.”

 

Jon smiles at that. “And you’re beautiful.” He leans in and their lips meet softly. “We should get back downstairs. We have to meet Bran and Meera soon and you know how long it takes saying goodbye to all of the kids and I promised Eleanor I would have you down there within five minutes or else, she was going to come up here and bring you a juice box.”

 

Sansa lets out a laugh at that and she feels like she’s going to cry. “That girl…” she shakes her head; still amazed after all of this time of being a mother at just how she and Jon can make these children and they grow _such_ personalities all on their own.

 

“She’s just like you,” Jon smiles. He moves his lips back to her temple and rests them there. “And Brandon’s just like you, too,” he murmurs.

 

And she doesn’t know how Jon knows, but somehow, he does. That’s exactly what Sansa needs to hear right now in this moment.

 

She exhales a breath and closes her eyes, resting her head against Jon’s lips and lifting her hand, she rests it on his cheek and feels his warm breath exhale softly onto her skin.

 

She doesn’t know how long they stay up there, but it must be at least five minutes, because they then hear Eleanor from the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Mama!” She calls up. “Do you need juice?”

 

…

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I apparently can't stay away from this family. And the song title obviously has nothing to do with the story, but I wanted to use Eleanor's song.


End file.
